Bones in Her Pocket
“An overpowering reek of urine and feces, like a wet blanket slapping my face and molding itself to my skin.
A few deep breaths, then I stepped through the door. The building erupted in sound. A cacophony of yipping, whining, howling, and barking.
My brain moved slowly, reluctant to process the horror my senses were taking in.
Rows of cages ran the length of the shed. Double-decker. Thirty, forty, maybe a hundred.
Jammed in each cage were anywhere from three to eight dogs, ey...es crusty, snouts raw from contact with the rusty chicken wire. Many had obscene tumorous nipples hanging like stretched and distorted fruit from their bellies.
My heart splintered.
I’d read of them, opposed them on principle. But I’d never actually seen a puppy mill. Dogs living their entire lives in tiny prisons. No toys. No comfort. No love. No hope.
I looked down the row.MoreLess
A few deep breaths, then I stepped through the door. The building erupted in sound. A cacophony of yipping, whining, howling, and barking.
My brain moved slowly, reluctant to process the horror my senses were taking in.
Rows of cages ran the length of the shed. Double-decker. Thirty, forty, maybe a hundred.
Jammed in each cage were anywhere from three to eight dogs, ey...es crusty, snouts raw from contact with the rusty chicken wire. Many had obscene tumorous nipples hanging like stretched and distorted fruit from their bellies.
My heart splintered.
I’d read of them, opposed them on principle. But I’d never actually seen a puppy mill. Dogs living their entire lives in tiny prisons. No toys. No comfort. No love. No hope.
I looked down the row.MoreLess
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